Red Typhoon
by floodmaster16
Summary: Sudden militia activity, advanced military hardware and drug smuggling, diplomatic tempers flaring and a dangerous paramilitary force, all threatening to bring down the NATO-Kyrgyzs relationships. Reaper Squad's covert assignment could bring peace or ignite a powder-keg. Not directly linked with the general CoD timeline.
1. Something is off

**Chapter 1: Something is off**

**NATO Military Complex No. 9284-54, Location Classified**

**Reaper Squad Leader, Codename "Viper"**

**September 3, 2015**

Viper marched down the door-lined corridor. His steps echoed on the enclosed space, dispite the fact that it was somewhat-crowded with administrative staff. He stopped in front of a secretary's desk, waiting for her to finish the call she was taking.

"He's waiting for you inside, Captain" as she pointed to the door with a pen in her hand.

Viper entered the office without saying anything but a "thanks", and stood in attention at the man inside.

"At ease, son, this is a semi-informal affair" declared General Julius Robertson.

"Sir?" he responded, relaxing his stiff posture slightly, but still generally at attention.

"There's something I need to talk you about, but before that I need you to understand that what I'm about to tell you must not leave this room" the General's expression hardened as he said this.

Viper felt uneasy, being called here in the middle of his routinary activities and then be asked to keep a secret he still didn't know, but the General wasn't stupid, in all honesty all he had to do was pull rank and he would still have to keep his hole shut, so he played along and complied.

"Over the past days our Reaper drones began to notice activity spikes all over Kyrgyzstan's border. At first we chalked it up to insurgent movements, we know the border to be an Area of Operations of extremist groups, but never on this magnitude, in fact, such movements where relatively small, confined to drug smuggling operations. But since exactly five days ago we've noticed an increased influx of personnel and materiel through the borders, most of them military-type cargo trucks and technicals, apparently operating as escorts for the convoys." as he explains this, he places the drone imaging on his desk for Viper. "Both NATO and the Kyrgyzs government are worried of what this means, since no army unit is recorded to be operational."

Viper watched the imaging carefully, already tracing assault patterns and looking for high-ground spots which would give him and his team the advantage over the technicals, a hard task considering the thermal imaging was slightly blurry an it deformed the terrain enough. _They wouldn't see us coming_, he thought when he found what appeared to be suitable suppresive fire vantage points. _No green light yet, so don't get ahead of yourself_.

"Permision to speak freely, sir"

"Speak your mind, son, you are not in a court room and I'm not a Drill Sergeant"

"Why are you telling me this, sir? This seems like actionable intel on posible enemy movements, I would be expecting me and my team to be told about this during a pre-mission brifing, not in private, sir" Viper's choice of words was probably poor, but he wasn't a very "chatty" person; his ex-girlfriend would gladly attest to that.

Robertson looked at him, sizing the man, trying to determine if he was a trustworthy person. Satisfied with his assessment, he decided to drop the bomb on him, unsure about his reaction

"I need you to understand this, son, Kyrgyzstan has a friendly and cooperative relationship with NATO, but inserting troops in the area woud make tempers flare, specially those of the chicoms. Command has agreed that a covert operation is the way to go, and that means something off the books. I'm telling you this because of you and your team's record over the past years" the General declared, never taking his eye off Viper, who shifted on his feet. Accepting to partake in a covert operation meant a lot of things: his team would be on his own, on hostile territory, with minimum radio contact and support, and, in the event any or all of them were killed or captured, their activities would be disavowed and their governments would turn their backs on them. It was something to think about carefully, specially when it was not only his own life at stake.

"Sir, in the hypothetical case you were to request me and my team to undertake this assignment, I firmly believe that my men should be made known of the nature of the operation, and the potential ramifications of failure"

"I expected this, Captain, but remember, no leaks about this, only you and your men are authorized to discuss this information between yourselves. Violation of this agreement will carry out svere sanctions, the least of which will be a court martial, understood?"

"Yes, sir"

"You're dismissed"


	2. Pre-mission Jitters

**Second chapter, feel free to leave your thought in the Reviews section.**

2. Pre-mission jitters.

**Barracks**

Viper had managed to reunite his squad on the barracks. Some of them had been on-leave on the nearby town (aproximately 10 miles away from base) . After the last man arrived, Viper pulled out the drone imaging from a folder, courtesy of General Robertson and briefed the men as thoroughly as posible.

"Listen up, here's the situation. Aproximately five days ago our drones began picking up a substantial amount of enemy activity along Kyrgyzstan's border. Command suspects these movements to be militia reinforcements en route to current combat hotspots all over the Middle East. Nevertheless, the brass wants boots on the ground to assess the situation and determine the nature of these movements. The codename for this operation is _Red Typhoon_. Command has confirmed two possible LZs, Alpha is here, aproximately 50 kilometers east from the border with Uzbekistan, and near an actively used dirt road that leads toward the less-vigilated part of the borderpass. Landing here implies assessing the convoys that attempt to furtively make their way to Uzbekistan. Drone imaging confirms escorts for these convoys, a number of no less than 5 technicals, possibly armed with _M2 _or _DShK_ heavy machine guns. LZ Bravo, on the other hand, is here, 20 miles North-West of Talas. Imaging confirms unknown military personnel concentrated around a 2-mile radious, Intelligence suspects there's an enemy C2 located in this area, should we land here, our orders are to recon the area, collect any Intel on enemy positions and destroy any materiel on sight. We will be Inserted by air, HALO jumping out of an MC-130J. Our exfil will be arranged after our objectives are met and we are secure to leave. Questions?"

Hawk, the Designated Marksman of the team, was the first to raise his hand.

"Sir, this seems like a high-stakes mission, why aren't we being briefed by the brass themselves, sir?"

_He is always the thinker, _Viper thought to himself. "Not going to lie to you, people. This will be an off-the-books assignment. Should we carry on with this mission we will officially be on our own, on hostile territory with minimum-to-no support. If things go South while out there NATO will disavow us and deny any ties with us. For these reason I will not order anyone into this mission, I'm asking for volunteers. Anybody who does not wish to be part of this mission can walk away, but must not, under any circumstances, talk about anything I've just told you. Should you do so you will be prosecuted by a military court."

The room fell silent, the threat hanging in the air. In all honesty, it was the first time Viper had ever asked them to volunteer, not that they would back down at all, they knew what their job was. Everyone volunteered on the spot, and Viper suddenly felt confident about the succes chances of the mission.

"Very well" Viper said, "the MC130 leaves tomorrow at o1oo hours. You know the drill, 1 hour earlier on the tarmac with your combat gear ready for check-up. You are dismissed."

The squad left, some to the mess hall an others to the basketball court, leaving Viper alone for a moment. He pulled his phone out and dialed Robertson's number.

"Are they in, Captain?"

"Yes, sir, they are all in"

"Good, then you should get some rest, the hardest days of your life are coming your way."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, and Viper, good luck"

"Thank you, sir"

Viper cut the call andwent to his personal bunk, near the barrack's door, readying himself for what he knew would be dream-filled slumber.

_The mountains are steep, Viper runs as the bullets snap when they hit the rocks around him. He stops and brings his 416 up while covering behind a good-sized rock. The weapon barks single rounds as he pulls the trigger, carefully picking his shots to conserve ammunition. 5 meters ahead Jonesy fires his M240B in short, controlled bursts, while Hawk and Jester make their way to cover, running 10 meters past Viper and stopping to cover Jonesy's retreat. The team's gunner begins to run, craddling his weapon in his arms, the ammo belt loudly clinking against his l egs._

"_Tossing frag!" shouts Viper, pulling an M67 fragmentation grenade from his plate-carrier. He pulls the pin and tosses the grenade on a high-arc, depletting the fuse quickly, and, as the grenade lands 30 meters ahead, he ducks behind the rock as the grenade explodes, showering the enemies with shrapnel and metal fragments, killling 3 of them and injuring 6 more. Downhill, Ace and Whopper provide covering fire, Ace with his HK 416 and Whopper with an MP7. Viper moves downhill as his team covers his retreat, and they continue this peculiar piggy-back excersise until they reach a flat area, at which point the squad takes cover and open fire at the enemies still coming down from up the mountain. 7.62 rounds hiss and snap all around them, with the constant staccatto of AKMs and other automatic weapons._

"_RPG! 2 O' CLOCK!" Ace shouts, as he discharges five rounds against the threat. The enemy succumbs, but his finger depresses the trigger in an act of reflex, and the rocket flies forward, erratically heading towards the team. The rocket grenade then shaply turns left and hits Viper in the chest, not detonating but knocking him back and blowing the air out of his lungs. He falls on his back and yells as an inmense pain ripples through his chest._

"_CAPTAIN!" Whopper shouts, as he sprints towards him, grabs him by his vest and pulls him to cover. Suddenly, an explosion happens, the rocket's fuse finally doing its job. The explosion sends dust into the air, forcing Viper to close his eyes..._

As he wakes up, Viper notices that his heart is accelerated. He is not startled, it wasn't the first time he's dreamed about combat, but the dream had an odd sense of finality that sent a shiver down his spine. He looks at the digital clock on his desk. 11:00 p.m. Time to get up. He stands up, makes his bed, and then proceeds to the showers, letting the water wash away the remnants of his dream and bringing back his concentration. The team had chosen to hit the possible enemy camp first, since attacking the convoys would probably scare them away, and would thus destroy any important intel they had, but the number of hostiles was potentially greater, and this prospect had worried Viper since then. As he finishes his shower and puts on his uniform, the rest of the team wakes up and does the same as he, all of them ready in less than 30 minutes.

_Who said the service didn't teach you anything useful..._

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	3. High Altitude, Low Opening

**Chapter 3: High Altitude, Low Opening**

The MC-130J rode the frigid air above mountainous terrain. Reaper Squad members were sitting along the right side of the cargo bay, their camouflaged Army Combat Uniforms matching in pattern with their Kevlar Plate carriers. Their uniforms were devoided from insignias and their personal effects had been gathered by one of the crew members in a box, standard proceedure for covert special operations. The squad was now silently going through their mission in their minds, some of them with their eyes closed.

After what seemed like an eternity, the pilot anounced "Two Minutes" over the cargo bay crew's headset, who in turn raised a finger, indicating that they were a minute away from their drop zone. Viper decided to drop on LZ Bravo, since attacking a possible enemy camp could provide valuable intel on the enemy forces and avoid any unwanted attention on them. As a minute bled away, the team stood up and checked each other's equipment, tugging straps and checking the latches before patting their partner on the shoulder, who turned and did the same to them. Viper headed aft, toward the cargo ramp, which would be openng any minute now.

"Ready, Captain?!" asked the Crew Chief, shouting to be heard over the roar of the turboprop engines.

"Yeah!. Do me a favor, could you? Would you give this to my ex-girlfriend?!" says Viper, as he flips his middle finger to the Crew Chief, who immediately laughs, "it's the only thing she's gonna get!"

"She's already got everything else!" Snaps back the Crew Chief, making them both laugh, until the pilot gives the final order to prepare to jump. The squad prepares for the jump, and the ramp begins to lower. The deafening roar of wind fills the aircraft, and the soldiers secure their oxygen masks to their faces, tightening the seals and doing a last quick-check of their gear, including their weapons. The red light previously emitted from the back of the plane's ramp suddenly changed to green, and the Crew Chief yelled "Jump, jump, jump!". The squad raced toward the dark void of the night, leaving the aircraft and going on a free fall.

Dropping from 25,000 feet, the soldiers scattered slightly, giving their partners room for their parachutes to open safely. They all kept an eye on their altimeters and their formation at intervals, while they continued on a free fall, quicky reaching a terminal velocity of 126 mph. Viper was so concentrated on the process that he was caught extremely off-guard when the Automatic Activation Device of his parachute malfunctioned and sent a signal for his parachute to open at 10,000 feet. Murphy's Law slapped him again when his parachute failed to deploy and sent him on an uncontrolled spin.

"Boss, you alright?" called Whopper over the team's radio-channel. Viper fought to regain control of his fall, stopping his spin and looking back at his altimeter. 4,000 feet. At 3,500 feet he tugged the reserve parachute chord, which deployed his reserve parachute. He landed on a rock incline, flexing his knees to reduce the impact in his joints. After regaining his footing and collapsing his parachute canopy, he sent a call over the radio.

"Reaper squad, gimme a sitrep, over"

"What happened, boss? Your chute popped before the mark"

"Damned AAD malfunctioned, deployed the chute before time, and the canopy didn't deploy correctly. Anybody with you?"

"I got Jonesy and Hawk over here, Ace says he's some 200 yards west of us and closing in fast"

"Then where the hell did Whopper landed?"

"I'm coming to you Cap, don't shoot to your north-east, I don't want to catch a bullet yet"

Viper turned slightly to his right and saw the squad's medic sprinting to his position. The run uphill left him winded-up, but he regained his composture with a couple of good breaths.

"Had a bumpy ride, huh, Cap?" He jabbed at him, while giving him a quick physical chech to make sure he didn't suffer any physical injury from the failed deployment.

"Not in a mood for jokes, Whopper. Am I fit for fighting or do I have to get Skyhooked out of here?" Viper retorted.

"We don't use Skyhook anymore, sir, it's been almost 20 years since it went practically dead. Ok, you seem to be fine, no injuries I can tell about. Feeling any pain?"

"Just the sore knee, it should go away soon enough" Viper dismissed

"Whatever, it's your own safety"

"Shut it, we need to get moving. Jester, where are you and the rest?"

"According to satelite imaging you are some 2 miles south of us, Captain, but we missed our LZ by 10 miles, we'll have to walk to the objective and the sun will probably be up by the time we reach it"

"Damn it!" muttered Viper to himself, "Haul ass to the objective, we'll link-up along the route. Stay out of sight, engage combatants only."

"Roger, see you on the other side boss"

"WILCO, Actual out"

Whopper checked his MP7's suppressor and waited for orders.

"Ok, the rest of the squad is linking-up with us along the way. We are aproximately 12 miles from the objective, we have to get there before sun-up. We engage combatants only and stick to suppressed weapons. Come on, we are Oscar Mike"

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	4. The Line

**Chapter 4: The Line**

**Attention: This chapter contains references to mass-murder and sexual abuse, things that unfortunately DO happen in real war. If you have a sensivity to these topics, better wait for the next chapter. You were warned.**

**Kyrgyzstan, 20 miles from Talas**

The walk was excrutiating, particularly so due to the ondulating terrain and the need to conserve the stealth in order to reach the objective quietly. While Jester, Hawk, Ace and Jonesy made their own way toward the Op Area, Viper and Whopper silently moved through mountainous vegetation, constantly stopping to check for patrols and enemy positions, Viper taking point and Whopper covering his back as they crouch-walked.

Despite Intel reports of the area being hot, they hadn't seen any kind of activity. After walking for aproximately an hour, they reached the edge of a small village-like city. The place was only some plain-looking concrete buildings, with a couple of them brandishing some kind of distinction, like ornate facades or solariums. Viper noticed that there was no movement on the street, nor iluminated windows on the buildings. While it wasn't something completely out-of-place, since it was 4:43 in the morning, the lack of street lamps casting light was. Viper then pulled out his binoculars and began to pick up details: litered garbage and debris on the streets, bullet markings in walls and marks leading somewhere deep into the forest, mainly truck tire-marks and footprints on the mud-roads.

"What do you see, Cap?" whispered Whopper, who kept a watch on their perimeter in case of unwelcomed visitors.

"There's something weird about this place, it looks like it has seen combat, but there doesn't look to be any occupation of sorts. It almost seems like it was just sweeped and then left alone"

"What are your orders?"

"We'll come back later to see what's going on in here. In the mean time, we are gonna follow those footprints, since they go in the general direction we are following"

"WILCO"

They climbed down from the slightly-elevated Observation Point they had been using, sticking to the vegetation in order to break their body outline. They followed the prints on the mud deep into the forest, expecting to find something that gave them a clue as to what the heck was going on around here.

At some point, a putrid and eye-wattering smell began to fill their nostrils and clinging to their uniforms. A lump formed in Viper's stomach, while Whopper gagged at the stench. They hearts began beating faster, for they had already experienced the smell before, but never so concentrated and powerful. They then reached a small clearing in the thick forest and heard voices. Fighting against the smell, Viper held a balled-up hand, indicating Whopper to stop. They crouched, Whopper now lying besides Viper, looking at the clearing before them. To human figures were standing near what appeared to be a hole in the ground, a campfire by their side. Both operators had to take off the PANODs they had been wearing, since the glare from the fire registered as an intense white glare that resulted unpleasant and blinding. They could hear snippets of conversation, but, to their surprise, it was not in Kyrgizs, but Russian.

"Ivans? Here?" Whopper whispered, surprise clear on his voice

Viper said nothing, he was just as surprised. Why would Russians be here, specially after last year's incident on the Crimea? It made absolutely no sense, they always preached their "determination of peace" for the area. Or so they said.

"Wait a sec" exclaimed Viper, using his binos again. He then picked up small details that they had missed before: the uniform they were using was not the official uniform of the Russian Armed Forces for this kind of operations. They were also devoided of any military insignias, and their gear seemed more occidental and less-regulated, one of them carrying a G36K carabine and the other an AKM assault rifle. Where a unit patch would normally be, there was only a small wolf-like design.

"I don't know who these guys are, but they are not with the Russian Military" whispered back Viper, "In fact, they look a lot more like mercs or hired guns"

"What? Why?"

"Look at their uniform and weapons" Viper hushed, passing the binoculars, "their clothes are almost civilian and their weapons are not standard"

Whopper noted the details, after which he was at a loss of words.

"Orders, sir?"

Viper pondered about this question, but the pungent smell that permeated the area made the decision clear.

"Weapons free, one shot, one kill" he ordered, thumbing his HK 416 fire-selection lever to _semi-automatic_.

He sighted through the rifle's Red/Green Dot scope and positioned the small dot on the left target's chest, on the area where the heart would normally be. Whopper did the same with his own weapon, an HK MP7 PDW, setting the sight's front blade on the right target's torax. Viper squeezed the trigger, Whopper following close, and the two near-simultaneous suppresed shots rang, followed by two wet _TWACKS! _when the rounds impacted their targets, Viper's one shredding his target's heart, and Whopper's piercing his target's left lung. The fallen combatant wheezed as he struggled to breath, but his punctured long filled with blood, and after 5 minutes he finally chocked with the fluid.

After making sure those were the only targets, both soldiers stood on their feet and cautiously moved toward the fallen enemies. As they grew closer their hearts fell on their chests. In front of them was a mass-grave, filled to the top with corpses, all of them in civilian clothes and in several states of decomposition. Viper stood there, mouth slightly open, while Whopper covered his mouth and looked in another direction. On the outer edge of the grave where scattered personal effects, undoubtly from the people who now occupied the hole on the ground. Viper spotted a hand-made ragdoll on top of some suitcases, and then leaned down to pick it up. It's eyes were a couple of sewn buttons, and sported a cheerfully-colored dress. He then scanned the piled corpses. He found a 12 year-old girl, unceremoniously tossed on the pit along with a middle-aged woman. Their chests showed two gun-shot wounds, one near the lungs and another bellow their sternum. Viper averted his eyes when he realized the girl's skirt was tattered and she was missing underwear, correctly decuting that, whoever was responsible for this, had saw fit to sexually-abuse an innocent 12 year-old girl and a woman. _What kind of person can do that and move along like nothing happened?, _he thought to himself, closing his eyes, trying to momentarily be somewhere else, anywhere but here. He composed himself and looked around the small camp set by the two targets they had just killed. He found an OD green drape on one of the tents and went back to the little girl and the woman beside her, covering their lower bodies to at least give them some measure of decency on their deaths, not wanting to think what he would do if he ever found out who had done this. He then left the doll on the girl's chest, not knowing if it was really her's, but at this point it didn't relly mattered, did it?

"Whopper, sitrep" requested Viper, his voice shaken and slightly broken by the shock. Whopper still had a knot on his throat and a face that Viper could not described with any word but a mix of xhoxk and anger.

"We are still more than 15 miles away from our AO" he finally said, voice hoarse as he tried to push the grave on the back of his mind.

"I... have to take pictures, as evidence... Oh, God... Jesus..."

"You okay, boss?"

"Yes, it's just... I've never... god dammit..."

He pulled out a digital camera from his combat pack and then proceeded to take pictures of the... mounstrosity he had in front on him. He avoided photographing the two women he had covered, feeling already guilty enough for discovering them before. While he did this, Whopper kept his sight on the perimeter, fixing his attention on keeping them alive. Viper stopped and re-packed the camera, deciding to send the pictures to Command on the next programmed radio-contact. They both then left the place after extinguishing the campfire; their clothes were impregnated with the unbearable smell of death, and this refresed the nightmare they had just experienced.

_As a soldier, there's a line that you never cross. They just did it. But who are they?_

**These themes are serious, and integral to real-life warfare, so I would appreciate if they were touched with the seriousness they deserve. There will be more themes of this kind, so discression is going to be necessary.**


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